Metaphores Are a Man's Best Friend
by meteor9
Summary: This is what happens when Jet asks the wrong guy about the birds and the bees...


**A/N:**  So, I'm in the car the other day, discussing how life just isn't complete without at least scarring the minds of a few children.  And a few days later, an idea popped into my head.  You know how some of these WA3 fics have little scenes about Jet not knowing about sex?  And there's like a sentence, some whispering, and a whole lot of beet red Jet afterward?  So I said, "Say, maybe I should do a one-shot about Gallows explaining the 'Facts of Life' to Jet?"  And approximately an hour later, I had this.   Now, here's the deal.  If you are capable of sitting through an episode of Ranma ½, then this can be easily tolerable.  (Language-wise, that is.)  However, if you still watch the Power Rangers, then run away.  Quickly, now!  You must escape!!

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Gallows spat all of his whiskey all over the boy.  "You don't know _what_?!!"

Looking around, and just a tad embarrassed, Jet responded, "I don't really know much about…..intercourse…."

This information was hard for the big man to take in.  Why, as far as Gallows could tell, he had known about _that_ from the moment Halle pulled him outta his momma's womb and into a harsh, unfair training regiment.  Okay, so maybe he exaggerates….

"Are you serious?"

Jet, even more embarrassed, nodded while shooting the Baskar a venomous glare.

"After all that 'Big bad Drifter" garbage you spouted when we first met you?"

Jet, again, nodded.

Gallows was even more dumbfounded than usual.  "So, you mean to tell me that you, Jet, the mysterious, cold-blooded, treasure huntin' punk never…" he stopped to think of a witty description, "…got it on with a fine chica?"  The ever present wit of the leather fetishist….

The mysterious, cold-blooded, treasure huntin' punk exploded.  "That's what I meant the first goddamn time I said it!!!  How the hell can you be so @+#*&% stupid?!!"  The whole bar fell into silence as Jet, standing with one foot on the overturned table, laced into Gallows with all of the fury his small frame could muster.  Small, yet ripped, for you lady-type fans.  Mental images are the hardest to block….

Gallows wasn't about to stand for this, no sir.  Grabbing the fuming punk in a headlock, he tossed a pouch of Gella to the barkeep and dragged the boy out of there.  Fortune smiled on the fate of entertainment, for lo and behold, just outside the bar, whistling a happy tune whilst walking to the inn, was none other than Virginia Maxwell.   At least, she was whistling until she saw Jet and Gallows.

"Guys?  What's going on?"  She took a look at Jet.  "And why is he screaming?"

Gallows pulled a ten-gallon hat from somewhere and threw it over Jet's face, who was still in the Baskar's tight grip.  "Oh, no reason.  Probably had too much to drink!  Who'd have thunk a sulky punk like him would be such an angry drunk!"  Satisfied with his own response, Gallows began to laugh uncontrollably, though he was obviously lying.

Jet, who had lost all sense of awareness, continued screaming at Gallows.  "…. And so what if I lived in Little Twister for two years and never visited the brothel?!  That doesn't make me any less of a man!!  I had no time for that shit!!  You can't expect me to know these things, you son of a bitch!"  

Fearing for her life, Virginia decided to back away, and proceeded to march straight back where she came from.  _Just when I thought these guys couldn't get any creepier…_

With the crisis narrowly averted, Gallows continued to drag Jet back to the inn.  

Inside, Gallows threw another small pouch of Gella at the confused shop owner, while Jet's endless tirade remained…well...endless.  Of course, when he was dragged up the stairs, his screams took on that funny "jumping" pattern.  You know the one…like when you talk while someone hits you in the back repeatedly?  Yeah, it sounds something like that.

Dropping the boy onto a bed, Gallows interrupted the shouting.  "Alright, punk, I'm gonna tell ya 'bout "gettin' it on"  

Jet, upon finally getting his answer, quickly shut up.

"Alright.  So, you know about the organs and stuff, right?"

"For the most part.  Like names and stuff."

"Well, that's a good start.  So, then, have you ever seen a great pair of knockers?"

Jet dropped his head in disgust.  Even still, he answered, "….once or twice."

"Really?  Whose?"  He would have pried more if there wasn't a boot in his face.  Pulling Jet's foot away, he continued.  "So, you know what those are for?"

"Well, since human beings are mammals, I can only assume that they're for feeding."

Gallows quickly grabbed the dictionary, and looked up all the big words.  "Mammals:  Creatures that feed their young through mammory glands…what the hell are mammory…...oh, right.  Now I remember."

Meanwhile, in Baskar Colony, Halle suddenly struck out at the air with her cane.

Back in the inn, Gallows went on.  "Enough on the breasts, you damn pervert!"

"Even though you're the one obsessing over them…"

"Erm….yeah….so…You wanna learn about all the good stuff!  Alright, so you've obviously seen the ol' manhood, right?"

Another icy glare.  "I'd have to be as dumb as you to miss something like that."

"Well, alright, jeez….  What about the….hmm….feminine areas?"  With innuendo this clever, even kids under three will immediately know what Gallows is trying not to say.

Jet groaned, but shook his head 'no.'

And Gallows went on for hours.

By the time Virginia had worked up the courage to return to the inn, Gallows was wrapping up his great lecture on procreation.  

And Jet was scared out of his mind.  "This whole thing sounds so bizarre….maybe I'll go back to thinking I'm a machine or something…"  

At precisely that moment, Virginia entered the room.  Winking, Gallows leaned over to Jet and whispered, "Why don't you try it out tonight, then," pointing at the team leader all the while.  "You might change your mind!"

When Gallows came to, he was in a back alley with blood pouring out his ears.  And he could have sworn that he saw a chestnut-haired girl fling a lamp at him from the third-floor window of the building next to him.

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**A/N:**  Well, there you go.

**Trina:  ** I am so glad that you only taught R-C how to read, and nothing like this….

**A/N:  ** I think it's obvious that R-C already knows this stuff.  Points to her stomach

**Trina:  **Um…heh heh….well…..yeah…..

**A/N:**  Aw, you know I'm just teasing you…

**Trina:  **I guess so.  But it'll break tradition if I don't do this.  *Shoots the author*

**A/N:  …**You're absolutely right….  *dies*

**Trina:  ** I'm always right.


End file.
